This morning I went to the post office to pick up a couple boxes of love that had been mailed to me from friends and family in The States. Customs in Peru is a gigantic pain. You have to arrive at around 8am to get in line for a number. Whenever they decide to hand out numbers you MUST be present. Then, you wait, usually about 3 hours, while they have everyone receive, present, and record everything in the box. It is something most volunteers here have come to despise, but somehow, I have come to look forward to it. I think it is because of the conversations. Everyone in this tiny waiting space doesn’t want to be there and is impatient, and the camaraderie is fantastic. You can’t really do anything but stare at each other and wait, so the words naturally flow. I have met poor single moms from the rainforests of Northern Peru and business women who looked at their watches every five minutes because they needed to get back to the office. I even met a nutritionist there that might be helping in the future with a Peace Corps nutrition project.
Strangely enough, SerPost is definitely something I think fondly of. Today, an elderly woman arrived at around 10am and attempted to get a package. While trying to explain how it works the impatient attendant was at her wits end when she could not communicate with the woman because she didn’t speak a lick of Spanish. I stood and translated for the gringa and received many thanks. So much so that the foreigner sat down for a second to chat with me. I asked her where she was from and how her visit in Peru was going.
“Oh honey, I live here. I am an archeologist.”
Immediately I am a little shocked. The woman didn’t speak a word of Spanish let alone Aymaran or Quechuan.
“Really, how long have you lived here?”
“Five years. I am doing research for a book I am writing.”
“Wow! What are you studying?”
“Oh, sweet heart, I can’t tell you that. What the ancient people tell you is a secret. They tell you and it is for your ears only. No one knows where I am and what I am studying.”
Intrigued but utterly confused I smiled and nodded.
“What is it that you do, sweetheart?’
“I am a member for the Peace Corps.”
She stares at me blankly.
“It is an organization that is part of the United States government that sends educated individuals all over the world to provide human resources.”
Her face changes in a blink to utter horror, “Oh, no.” She shakes her head.
For some reason I felt the need to validate, “I studied psychology and I work with kids out in rural Peru.”
“Oh, sweat heart, you work for the American government? That’s too bad. That’s just too bad. All they do is destroy. You can’t change the people here to be like you.”
“Our goals aren’t to change the people of Peru to be like Americans, our goal is to help get them access to resources like healthcare and education. I don’t do anything but facilitate what they community wants.”
“Oh, you don’t even know. You don’t even know. The United States destroys. That is all it does.”
“What makes you think that?”
“They are destroying cities all over the world. Don’t you know this? That is all they do is destroy. You cannot bring back anything you learn here to them. They will destroy everything. You just can’t tell them. What you hear here are for your ears only.”
With that I glanced at the man sitting on the other side of the room that I knew was from California and he gave me the big eye, but kept his mouth shut. The older woman pilled a smile out of her back pocket and ruffled her fingers through my hair as she stood up.
“You take care of yourself.”
She walked away leaving me full of anger, embarrassment, and undeserving.
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